There's a Good Reason These Tables are Numbered
by silentskeptics
Summary: SongFic to There's a Good Reason These Tables are Numbered Honey,You Just Haven't Thought of it Yet.Reviews please!I do not own Ryan Ross,Panic at the Disco,or this song.Rated T for language and alcohol.
1. Part I

"_Please leave all overcoats, canes, and top hats with the doorman. From that moment you'll be out of place and under dressed." _

Like a waterfall, decorative, crystal beads hung in the doorframe; the colored lights in side reflecting off them and sending a spectrum of colors into the hallway. Music and the cheers of party-goers pulsed from the room. The skin behind Lydia's mask was drenched in sweat and she picked at her manicured nails nervously.

_What if I get caught? _she thought. _But I have to do this. Suck it up, Lydia. _

"Name?" asked a stiff doorman with wispy white hair.

"Rebecca Leon," she replied quietly. Luckily, Rebecca was home sick and Lydia could sneak in in her place. Thank God it was a masquerade party.

The man checked the name off of his clipboard and stuck out his hand for her coat. She took it off and gave it to him. He placed it on a hook to his right and reached over for a glass of champagne.

"Thank you," said Lydia, taking a sip of the sweet liquid.

"Enjoy the party."

"_I'm wrecking this evening already and loving every minute of it. Ruining this banquet for the mildly inspiring."_

Lydia stepped into the dim room, surveying all of the people attending the party. Most of them were typical divas with low cut dresses and boys draped around their shoulders. She was an outsider among them. She wasn't rich, or popular, or as pretty as some. But she wasn't planning on staying that way for long.

Tonight, Lydia would show everyone up and rise above the other mildly inspiring girls who blended in among the crowd, just like her. She would be the top tonight.

"_When you're in black slacks with accentuating off-white pin stripes, everything goes according to plan."_

She looked towards the bar area and noticed a tall man perched upon a stool dressed off-white pin striped pants. Even behind the plaster mask, she could tell who it was. Her heart beat irregularly fast and she became even more nervous. Although, she still kept her cool.

Lydia took a step forward.

"_I'm the new cancer, never looked better, you can't stand it because you say so under your breath your reading lips."_

A girl stepped in front of her. "Lydia? What are _you_ doing here?"

Lydia looked up at Elise Markus who towered over her in her three inch heels. She'd always been tall anyway; she didn't exactly need them. Elise was in a sparkling red cocktail dress and her hair was straight and down to her shoulders.

"Partying, what else?" Lydia said with confidence.

"Well, you weren't invited and I have the right to call security."

"Go ahead, be my guest."

Elise glared down at Lydia from under her jewel-encrusted mask and then rolled her eyes. Lydia knew Elise wouldn't tell anyone if she told her she could. She was just stubborn like that.

"Whatever, just don't get in my way," she snarled and turned sharply on her heel. On her way, Lydia heard her murmur "I knew I should I have bought that dress. It would have looked so much better on _me_ rather than her, that bitch. When did she get all confident?"

Lydia smoothed out her dress and a wide smile appeared on her lips. The deep, black silk shined in the flashing lights. She really did stand out if Elise noticed it.

_"Next is a trip to the ladies room in vain. I bet you just can't keep up with those fashionistas. Tonight you are who you are; a whispering campaign. I bet to them your name is cheap. I bet to them you look like shhh……" _

She made her way to the dance floor, bobbing to the contagious beat. She handed off the champagne to some stranger and decided to forget about the guy at the bar for now. She'd enjoy the party for a little while.

"Lydia!" shouted a voice.

Lydia whirled around to find herself face to face with a friend of Elise's, Natasha Wellings. Natasha was basically Elise's clone; tall, blond, and airheaded.

"Hey, I heard you made your dress from things found in the dumpster and that you snuck into this party to find a guy because he can't see your face so there's actually a chance he'll say yes. Is that true?"

"No! Who told you that?" she roared.

"Oh, it's just what's going around the party." Then she disappeared into the crowd of dancers.

Looking around, Lydia noticed for the first time the devilish smiles, pointing fingers, and snickers behind hands. Her face flushed and became hot behind her mask. She bolted for the bathroom, shoving people out of her way. She hated Elise. How dare she spread such lies about her just because her dress was better.

The ladies room was empty and quiet. The only sounds were the sobs that raked at her chest.

"_Talk to the mirror, choke back tears, and keep telling yourself that 'I'm a diva!'"_

She went the sink, ripped off her mask, and placed both hands on either side of the porcelain, looking at herself in the mirror. Her makeup was smudged from rubbing her eyes and her black hair fell out of its bun, landing in her eyes. Angrily, she brushed it away.

"This night was supposed to be perfect," she whispered, "but I guess I was mistaken."

She sighed and tried what her mother once told her to do whenever she felt unsure of herself- tell herself that she _was_ better and make herself believe it.

"I'm a diva, better than Elise. I will shine tonight," she chanted.

After a few seconds, she felt dumb and stopped, falling onto the cold tile. She choked back tears and forced herself to get up and keep going. Who cared about them anyway?

She did.


	2. Part II

"_Oh, and the smokes in that cigarette box on the table they just so happen to be laced with nitroglycerine."_

Lydia gathered herself up and reentered the party with her mask back on her face. There was someone waiting for her at the door. Someone in white pin stripe pants.

"Are you okay? I saw you run in there and I was worried," said Ryan Ross.

Lydia shrugged her eyes wide and staring at the thin boy before her. How long had she had a crush on him and never had the guts to talk to him?

"What's wrong?"

"I'm just having troubles with gossip," she mumbled.

His mouth opened into an O. "Are you Lydia?"

She nodded. _How wonderful, he's heard it too!_ she thought grimly.

"I heard those but I knew they weren't true. I've seen you at school; you seem to pretty to not be able to get a guy. And that dress is definitely not from the garbage." Ryan smiled warmly.

"Thank you so much," she said sincerely, a blush blossoming on her cheeks. "I'll be right back, I could use a smoke."

"Please, take this one." He handed her a thin cigarette. "Those ones on the table were laced with nitroglycerine as a joke to whoever took one. Stupid drunk bastards, they could kill someone."

"Yeah, you're right," she agreed, lighting her cigarette and blowing a puff of smoke. She never really liked cigarettes but they helped her calm her frayed nerves. Luckily, she wasn't addicted or stupid. She'd be careful.

"_And I know it just doesn't feel like a night out with no one sizing you up."_

"So you're okay?" Ryan asked again.

"Yeah, I guess. I only wanted to be popular for a night. "

"I know how it is with you girls. You all want to show each other up and get all the guys and crap like that. It's all just a big contest, isn't it?"

"Basically," Lydia agreed.

"Well, with a night out it may be okay, whatever. You want to look good but you can only take so much. Don't make it a life-long contest. You shouldn't care what anyone else thinks. Just care if you feel good about yourself. Does that even make sense?"

"Yes." She gulped loudly.

Ryan took her cigarette, stuck it in his mouth, and then when he was done, smashed out the ember with his shoes. "I'm glad you understand, Lydia. No one would want to see you suffer like that."

"Elise would."

"Well, she's a bitch."

Lydia smiled and realized her heart wasn't racing. Talking with Ryan had been smoother than she'd ever imagined. He was extremely kind. She was a little anxious though.

"_I've never been so surreptitious so of course I'll be distracted when I spike the punch."_

"I've had to deal with Elise for too many years. She deserves to be on the other end of her pranks and gossip or at least be the one with embarrassment for once."

Ryan's hand trailed down to his pocket and pulled out a silver flask, liquid sloshed inside.

"Vodka anyone?" he joked slyly.

"What are you planning on doing?"

"I happen to know that Elise gets drunk very easily and when she does, it's crazy. Also, she tends to throw up a lot."

Lydia made a face.

"We are going to spike the punch. Man, I've always wanted to do this at a party!"

Ryan took her hand and they slinked over to the bar. On the counter was a huge bowl of red punch. Quickly, Ryan threw the contents of the flask into the punch and turned the other way, acting nonchalant.

"We should leave now," he murmured in Lydia's ear.

"And miss Elise barfing her guts out?"

"I'm sure we'll hear about it at school," Ryan assured her.

He gripped her hand tighter and led her towards the door.


End file.
